


Better off as

by AirgiodSLV



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-19
Updated: 2007-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“He bet you you couldn’t sleep with J-Walk?” Travis asks incredulously. “Dude, that’s fucked up.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Better off as

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://maleyka.livejournal.com/profile)[**maleyka**](http://maleyka.livejournal.com/) and [](http://adellyna.livejournal.com/profile)[**adellyna**](http://adellyna.livejournal.com/)

“You should at least let me try to win him back,” is how it begins. Ryan Ross and his merry band of carnies have just absconded with William’s favourite guitar tech, and he’s had enough gin-and-things (Siska was mixing, God only knows what’s in them) to think that winning Jon Walker back to the bosom of their band sounds like an excellent plan.

“Are you going to woo him?” Brendon asks with interest.

William isn’t sure that wooing is the right word. “I could buy him from you,” he offers.

“You don’t have enough money,” Ryan says. William is perversely reassured by the answer. At least they know the value of what they’re after.

“We could have a contest,” William muses. He thinks he could probably take Ryan if it came to mud-wrestling or Guitar Hero. Definitely beer pong.

“What about a bet?” Brendon suggests. They all pause to consider.

“Terms?” William inquires, with the air of someone who has done this many times before.

“You have to seduce someone. Someone male. Someone straight,” Ryan decides, and Brendon looks enthused enough about the idea that William concedes. It can’t be all that difficult, it’s not like he’s never done it before. However.

“Define seduction.”

“Clothes need to come off, gay sexual acts performed,” Ryan answers seriously.

“Am I allowed to make use of copious amounts of alcohol and possibly other mind-altering substances?” William asks. Ryan makes a face but agrees.

“How long?” Brendon asks, thinking hard. “A week? Two weeks? Is that too long?”

“Two weeks,” William decides, and wiggles his fingers. “I need time to work my magic.”

*

They spend the afternoon at a Japanese steakhouse eating each other’s sashimi and searching for a suitable candidate.

“Travis?” Ryan suggests.

“Too easy,” William replies. Also, it would have a chance of fucking up their friendship, and he’s not screwing up one friendship to save another. It’s just not a good plan.

“Pete,” Brendon tries.

William shakes his head. “Been there, done that.”

“Really?” Ryan asks interestedly. At least, he sounds interested, and not like he’s going to stab William’s eyes out for it, so that’s a good sign.

“What about Gabe?” Brendon asks.

William laughs for almost a full minute.

“Okay, not Gabe,” Brendon says.

“Oh no, Gabe’s fine,” William assures him. “Gabe’s _great._ ”

“ _Not_ Gabe,” Ryan says firmly.

“It has to be someone hard, like, a really tough nut to crack,” Brendon muses. His eyes light up suddenly. “Hey, what about Spencer?”

“ _Not Spencer,_ ” Ryan warns flatly, voice like sharpened icicles. William pouts a little. Spencer is fucking adorable, and prickly like a cactus, but that only means he’d be more interesting in bed. The wrath of Ryan Ross, however, is not to be taken lightly.

“Fine,” Brendon agrees hastily. “Not Spencer. What about…hey, what about Jon?”

There’s a lengthy pause while they all consider that. Finally William says carefully, “Maybe not Jon.”

Ryan’s gaze sharpens, scenting weakness. “Jon,” he says. “Jon or nothing.”

“Isn’t that a little unfair, seeing as you’ve already stolen him?” William points out.

Ryan smirks.

“Fine, fine,” William sighs. “Jon it is.”

*

Jon smiles when he catches sight of William at the bar, a suitably light-coloured beer waiting ready next to his French martini. William likes things that are French.

“What’s up?” Jon asks, pulling up a stool.

“I’m on a mission to seduce you,” William informs him.

“No, really,” Jon says.

“Really,” William assures him, closing his teeth around the end of his swizzle stick and sucking the olive off.

Jon blinks. “You know I’m not coming back, right?” he says.

William considers. “Hypothetically, if I started taking my clothes off right now…”

“No,” Jon says, but his eyes are crinkled with laughter.

“Hmm,” William replies, then points out, “I bought you a beer.”

“I see that,” Jon answers, still grinning.

William grins right back. “Drink up, so I can buy you another.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Does your mission of seduction involve getting me wasted?”

“It’s all in the plan,” William assures him.

*

It takes William twenty minutes to get Travis and Gabe on conference call, but he blames that on overly complex technology and the fifth rum-and-coke.

“He bet you you couldn’t sleep with J-Walk?” Travis asks incredulously. “Dude, that’s fucked up.”

“I know,” William moans. It goes mostly into his pillow, but his phone is somewhere in the vicinity, so he’s relatively sure they can hear him. He can’t be bothered holding it and his head up right now. That’s what speakerphone is for.

“So what are you going to do?” Gabe asks, pragmatic and to the point as always.

“I don’t know,” William mumbles. His head hurts just thinking about it. He has a week left before the circus show takes Jon away, and counting days isn’t helping. “Fucking carnies.”

Travis laughs, low and smoky. William is soothed just hearing it, and rolls onto his back, fumbling for the phone to thumb it off speaker. “You should be here,” he tells them. “Both of you. Help me win him back.”

“Are you asking us to convince him with our cocks?” Gabe asks. “Because I could get behind that, but I think he might be a little overwhelmed if we try to four-way the first time.”

“Fuck you,” William replies succinctly. Gabe’s laugh crackles through the phone and the last of the tension seeps out, leaving him sleepy and relaxed. “I have a plan.”

“Sure you do,” Travis assures him.

“Does this plan involve tying him up? Because I think that might be your only option at this point,” Gabe puts in. “He leaves in like, six days.”

William frowns at Gabe through the phone. “I call you my friend,” William reminds him. “You’re supposed to be offering support right now, you dick.”

“Hey, I’m supportive,” Gabe protests. “My middle name is supportive!”

“That’s your last name,” Travis puts in.

William huffs and blows hair out of his face. “I’m never putting you two on conference call again.”

There’s a pause. “You don’t actually have to,” Gabe says, and then William can hear Travis’ rich laughter through the line…and in the background behind Gabe.

“You fuckers,” William accuses, sitting up indignantly. “Are you two together?”

This time mixed laughter rings clearly through both lines. “You’re on probation,” William tells them both, and hangs up.

*

Jon goes out with William for greasy diner food after their last show on Friday. “You didn’t tell me there was a bet involved.”

“Didn’t I?” William says innocently, nibbling at the ketchup-laden end of a French fry. “There’s a bet involved.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jon says. “You bet Ryan and Brendon that you could get me into bed, as presumably I’m straight, when we’ve already slept together.”

“Yes, but _they_ don’t know that,” William explains, a fact which should be obvious, unless Jon has been sharing more with his new band than William had expected.

“You haven’t actually tried since, though,” Jon persists, visibly trying to put the pieces together into a puzzle that makes sense. William had thought they’d cured him of that habit long ago. “What did you bet?”

William chooses not to answer that question. He feigns harmless innocence and dips a fry in Jon’s ketchup. It’s sweet and salty all at once. William loves the French.

“You’re kidding,” Jon says after a moment. “You bet _me?_ ”

William sighs. “Ryan picked you,” he admits. “I just went along with it.”

Jon eyes him as if he’s gaining some insight into William’s character. William wishes him luck with that, better men have tried and failed. “So you’re losing on purpose.”

“I’m not losing,” William protests immediately. “I’m biding my time.”

“It’s eleven fifty-four,” Jon says, tipping his watch up so William can read the hands. “You only have six minutes left.”

“There’s still blowjobs in public bathrooms,” William reminds him.

Jon sighs, but his lips keep twitching like he’s really smiling. “Bill…” he begins.

William cuts him off before they get into any deep emotional stuff. “It’s a great opportunity, they’re on the way up. I’m not letting you pass it up because of us. It’s not like you and I were in a _relationship._ ”

Jon rolls his coffee cup between his hands, the bottom of the mug scraping quietly against the ceramic saucer. “We slept together for six weeks,” he points out.

William shrugs, pushing away the rest of his fries. “I don’t start counting until week seven.”

“Bullshit,” Jon shoots back.

William doesn’t dignify that with a response. “Do you want more coffee?” he asks instead.

Jon looks at him for a moment. “Yeah,” he says finally. And then, “Thanks.”

*

The entire circus-freak menagerie of Panic! At the Disco stops by far too early in the morning before they hit the road.

“We’ve come to collect,” Ryan informs him.

“You can’t collect,” William points out irritably. “He’s already living on your bus.”

“You should have gone for his guitar,” Spencer tells them. William is very glad Spencer wasn’t there during bet negotiations.

“So we’re right, aren’t we?” Ryan persists. “You didn’t get Jon to sleep with you.”

William purses his lips, waits a moment for dramatic tension, and then says defeatedly, “No.”

“I knew it!” Ryan crows. Brendon looks confused, like he was expecting a different answer. William resists the urge to wink at him.

“Not even cash?” Spencer frowns, still waiting for William to pay up. “You guys drive a pathetic bargain.”

“You got Jon,” William points out, with slightly more steel than he might have otherwise shown. Spencer has the decency to look guilty, and William is mollified. Mostly.

“Get off my bus, I haven’t had coffee yet,” William orders, waving an imperious and limp-wristed hand at them. They tumble off to start their tour, taking Jon with them, and that’s that.

*

William saunters offstage after the last encore in Chicago and hands his guitar off to a tech who looks remarkably like Jon Walker.

Jon’s doppelganger smiles at him and makes no move to disappear with the guitar to wherever it is that post-show guitars go before they end up back on the bus, which is a fairly good clue that Jon does not in fact have a twin.

Which is too bad, because William would have been all over that.

“What did they do?” William demands, after their confused-looking tech recovers his guitar and Jon has stuffed his hands sheepishly in his pockets. “Was it Ryan, did he throw a diva fit? Smith? Does he think you’re not good enough? Did Urie try to touch you inappropriately?”

“Relax,” Jon says, laughing. “We’re on a break, I came home for a few days.”

“Oh.” William ponders this. “Are you sticking around for a while?”

Jon grins. “A while, yeah.” His toes wriggle in his flip-flops. William tries not to get distracted and sort of succeeds. “I thought that since you don’t start paying attention until week seven…” He smiles. “I’ve got some time.”

“Really?” William asks. Jon’s smile is infectious, and he’s not trying all that hard to resist. “In that case,” he says, “welcome home.”


End file.
